


the high priestess

by oryx



Category: Danball Senki
Genre: Established Relationship, Gen, M/M, Protective Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 12:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oryx/pseuds/oryx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Hanzou learns the ins and outs of maintaining a stable almost-marriage, and Kiyoka receives some visitors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the high priestess

He jolts awake when he feels the bed dip and groans in annoyance at being disturbed, squinting blearily at the clock on the bedside table. The neon-red numbers read three in the morning.

 

“What’re you doing home so early?” he mumbles, glaring at Daiki’s back.

 

“… Seriously?” Daiki huffs out a sigh and turns to face him. Even in the semidarkness his irritation is palpable. “I’ve been telling you for the past week, over and over again: ‘I’m taking a few hours off on Friday.’ Just out of curiosity – do you _ever_ listen to me, or does it all just go in one ear and out the other?”

 

“Well geez, sorry,” Hanzou mutters. “I’ve got a hard enough time remembering my own schedule without worrying about yours too. Are you doing something tomorrow?”

 

“I’m visiting my sister,” Daiki says. “Now stop talking and go back to sleep, dammit. This is my first chance in for-fucking-ever to get a full eight hours.”

 

Hanzou is on the verge of obediently complying when realization hits him. “Whaaaaat?” he exclaims. “Kiyo-chan?? I want to come with!”

 

Daiki makes a frustrated noise. “Okay, first of all: I don’t think her friends even call her ‘Kiyo-chan.’ Please, just… never again. Second of all: you are _not_ coming along.”

 

“Haa? Why the hell not? You do realize I’ve only met her _once_ before, right? When she was like… eleven? This is the perfect opportunity!”

 

“Here’s a thought! How about we discuss this in the morning?” Daiki says, his voice weary. He reaches over and shoves Hanzou’s head down into the pillow. “ _Good night_ , Hanzou.”

 

Hanzou makes a muffled noise of protest but sinks into the pillow all the same, tiredness pulling at him. It _had_ been a long day. Soon enough his eyes are closing, and he can feel himself fading once more into sleep.

 

“Yeah, yeah, good night,” he murmurs, and is gone.

 

.

 

.

 

“You _said_ we were going to talk about it in the morning!”

 

“Yeah, well I changed my mind,” Daiki shouts over his shoulder, breaking into a speed-walk. “Stop following me, dumbass!”

 

“Like hell!” Hanzou scowls. He picks up his pace, jogging a little to catch up. “I told you I wanted to come along and that’s what I’m gonna do!”

 

An old woman stares at them perplexedly as they careen around the corner. The train station is right in front of them, and Daiki starts walking even faster still, taking the stairs up to the platform two at a time. Hanzou gets momentarily stuck in the turnstile and curses under his breath.

 

He barely makes it on to the train, narrowly avoiding getting his hair caught when the doors slide shut behind him. Daiki levels him with the glare of a thwarted man. Clearly he’d been hoping to ditch him at the station.

 

“Why don’t you want me coming with you?” Hanzou hisses, sliding into the seat next to him.

 

“Because it’s just weird, alright??” Daiki stares out the window pointedly, arms folded across his chest. “You and my sister… I don’t know. It feels like some kind of ‘meet the in-laws’ thing.”

 

Hanzou blinks.

 

“Oh,” he says, and clears his throat awkwardly. A flush begins to creep up the back of his neck. “But… you’ve met my old man like fifty times.”

 

“That’s different,” Daiki mutters. “No offense, Hanzou, but your dad is an idiot.”

 

“Hey!”

 

“Please, even you have to admit it. Remember that one time he walked in on us? And he just stood there and laughed and said something about ‘wrestling’ being a ‘good way to build manly bonds of friendship’? He’s so fucking oblivious.”

 

Hanzou grimaces. He tries to remember _that day_ as little as possible (how the hell could he have forgotten to lock the door?).

 

“My sister is different,” Daiki says. “She’s observant. She notices things. There’s no way she’ll believe that you’re ‘just a roommate.’ And I don’t know if I’m ready to tell her – ”

 

He falters mid-sentence, averting his gaze, the tips of his ears reddening.

 

“Yeah,” Hanzou says quickly. At least they’re on the same page embarrassment-wise. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

 

They sit in silence for a long moment, watching the cityscape flashing by outside the window. Except for a sleeping man in a business suit, they’re alone in the train car, for which Hanzou is incredibly grateful. He’d rather not have strangers listening in on this awkward conversation.

 

Daiki sighs, shattering the quiet. “But then again,” he says, “she’s probably already figured it out, what with all the random shit I tell her. Always been good at reading between the lines, even when we were kids.”

 

Hanzou gives him a quizzical look.

 

“We text each other,” Daiki explains. “A couple times a week. I tell her about my day, she tells me about hers.” He shrugs, nonchalant. “I complain about you, mostly.”

 

That gets his attention. Hanzou sits up a little taller in his seat, fingers gripping the armrest tightly. “ _What_ ,” he says, more a demand than a question.

 

“Oh, don’t give me that. Sometimes I just need someone to vent to. Do you have any idea how aggravating you can be?”

 

“… And so you bitch about me to your sister?” Irritation wells up inside him, burning hot under his skin. “Are you screwing with me right now, Daiki? If you have a problem with me, how about saying it to my fucking face?”

 

Daiki’s expression changes, then – closing off, his eyes going all cold and distant. He laughs softly and shakes his head like he’s disappointed, like he expected something more.

 

“Yeah,” he says. “I thought you’d say something like that.”

 

“Now arriving at Tokio City Harbor,” announces the cool female voice on the PA, and Daiki gets to his feet without another word. The train slows to a halt and the doors slide open, and he doesn’t even look back as he steps out on to the platform.

 

“Oi,” Hanzou calls, hurrying to follow after him, glaring daggers at the back of his head. “Don’t just walk away from me! I want to know what it is I do that bothers you so _fucking_ much!”

 

Daiki pauses mid-step and whirls around, jabbing a finger into Hanzou’s chest.

 

“I’m not going to tell you,” he says, voice low and dangerous. “And you know why? Because if I ‘took it up with you’ every time you did something that pissed me off, arguing is _all we would ever do._ It’s called compromise, dumbfuck. Sometimes I get angry, yeah, but other times I just _let it go_ , because is it really worth it in the long run, picking a fight over how you put the dishes away? No, it’s fucking not.” He makes an aggravated noise, massaging his temples tiredly. “But just because I let it go doesn’t mean I can’t complain about it to the only person that’ll listen.”

 

Hanzou stares at him, stunned. He tries to say something but no words come. He thinks back on the past year, remembering every shouting match and petty disagreement, and realizes that something has indeed changed. Somewhere along the line, the constant, precarious balance of tensions between them has mellowed. Daiki is different now, more likely to roll his eyes than start a fight. More likely to solve things with his words than his fists.

 

All this time he’s been working to make things better, and Hanzou hadn’t even noticed.

 

“… I’m sorry,” Hanzou says, and means it sincerely. “I didn’t… I didn’t even think – ”

 

“You _never_ think,” Daiki sighs. “That’s the problem. Now come on, move your ass. We’re causing a scene.”

 

He’s right – several passersby are glancing at them curiously, whispering behind their hands. Hanzou scowls at them.

 

“Mind your own fucking business,” he growls, and follows Daiki down the steps towards the pier.

 

(At the ticket booth Daiki seems to war with himself. His gaze slides towards Hanzou, a frown twisting his lips, his aggravation still abundantly clear.

 

“Two for the ferry to Kamui,” he says finally, pushing the money across the counter, and Hanzou hides a smile behind his hand.)

 

.

 

.

 

“Man, this place is old-fashioned.” He peers into one of the shop windows curiously. “Holy shit, dude, come look at this – they’re selling _books_ in this one. Honest to god paper books.”

 

“No Infinity Net service, either,” Daiki mutters, looking at his CCM screen. “Doesn’t this all strike you as kind of… suspicious?”

 

“Hmm? How so?”

 

“Well I don’t know. Bringing a bunch of kids to an island, dropping them in the middle of some town that looks like a goddamn museum, cutting them off from the ‘net… It’s weird as hell. I had to jump through hoops just to get a one-day visitation pass for this place. And then there’s Jin, telling us to keep quiet about him working here? The fuck is that about?”

 

Hanzou shrugs. “It’s Jin,” he says, as if that constitutes an explanation. “I’m sure he’s got a good reason. And c’mon, you gotta admit it’s badass – an LBX school. I’m kinda jealous of the kids here.”

 

Daiki doesn’t look like he can argue with that. They stop in front of a shop, the sign outside reading “Swallow Café” in faded pastel letters, with a message underneath that says, ‘Try our new melon ice cream!”

 

“This is… apparently the place,” Daiki says. He sounds dubious.

 

“Y’think I could get a beer here?” Hanzou asks, grinning.

 

The corner of Daiki’s mouth twitches (which is the closest he’s come to actual laughter all day, so Hanzou counts it as a small victory). He pushes open the door and they step inside, the bell jingling overhead. There are several tables full of Kamui Daimon students, their chatter and laughter melding into a soft hum, and then, in a booth at the back of the café, there is Kiyoka. She notices them and lifts a delicate hand in greeting, just as prim and proper as Hanzou remembers her being.

 

“You’re late, nii-san.”

 

“Come off it,” Daiki mutters, rolling his eyes. “It’s _five minutes_ past the time you gave me.”

 

“Kiyo-chan!” Hanzou exclaims, elbowing Daiki out of the way. “You remember me, right?”

 

She nods. “Of course, Gouda-san. It’s good to see you again.”

 

“Same! Man, you were just a little kid last time we met. Time flies, right? You were super cute back then, but… wow, I gotta say, you’ve turned into quite the beauty – ow!”

 

Daiki punches him in the arm again for good measure. “Stop hitting on my sister, you fucking creep,” he hisses. “I wonder what campus security would think if I reported a ‘suspicious twenty-year-old man trying to pick up fifteen-year-old girls’?”

 

He slides into the booth opposite Kiyoka and Hanzou follows suit, trying and failing to stifle his laughter. Daiki’s sister complex never fails to amuse.

 

“Alright,” Daiki says with a tired sigh. “What do you have?”

 

Kiyoka taps her CCM screen and turns it towards him, revealing the image of a tarot card. “The High Priestess,” she says. “And you?”

 

He draws a card and grimaces. “The Moon, upright. Fuck, I knew I shouldn’t have let this idiot come along.”

 

“Oi!” Hanzou protests, but is blatantly ignored.

 

“That is indeed an unfortunate prediction,” Kiyoka muses. “But perhaps the two cards are meant to balance each other. Perhaps the intuition and insight of the High Priestess could assuage the insecurities brought upon by the Moon. Don’t you think, nii-san?”

 

“Let’s hope you’re right,” Daiki mutters darkly. He picks up a menu and skims through it, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I feel comfortable ordering any of these adorable desserts. ‘Chocolate Caramel LuvLuv Sundae’? What the actual fuck? Don’t they have any real food here?”

 

“Not really,” Kiyoka says. The waiter approaches them and she places an order for some kind of fruity parfait explosion. Feeling distinctly out of place, Hanzou and Daiki exchange a glance and both just get a drink.

 

“So Kiyo-chan,” Hanzou says, grinning. “How’s life at Kamui Daimon? Anything exciting to report?”

 

“More importantly,” Daiki cuts in, leaning across the table and lowering his voice. “Nobody’s _bothering_ you, are they? Nobody causing you trouble? ‘Cause if someone’s fucking with you I can take ‘em out, no questions asked.”

 

Kiyoka sighs. “No, nii-san. No one is bothering me. And I’m fairly sure you’d be arrested if you beat up a teenager, so please don’t even entertain the idea.” She turns toward Hanzou with a faint smile. “School life here is very enjoyable – thank you for asking, Gouda-san. It is… difficult but rewarding. I’ve learned quite a bit and met some rather interesting people. Although…”

 

She hesitates and trails off, a thoughtful set to her features.

 

“Although?” Daiki echoes. “Although what?”

 

“Although I’m starting to wonder if this school might be more than it seems,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. The waiter returns with their order and she clears her throat, a wary glint in her eye, thanking them tersely.

 

“… What do you mean?” Daiki asks once the waiter has left.

 

“I mean,” she begins, but is interrupted by a voice calling her name.

 

“There you are! Geez, we’ve been looking all over for you.” A short girl with platinum blonde hair walks up to their table, followed closely by two other girls. She takes one look at Hanzou and Daiki and her lips curve into a sly smile. “Holding secret meetings with older men, are you? How scandalous!”

 

Kiyoka seems unfazed. “This is my brother, Daiki,” she says. “And this is his roommate Gouda-san.”

 

“Oho, the infamous brother! I should’ve guessed.” The girl extends a hand and Daiki stares at it for a moment before shaking, clearly taken aback by this brazen girl. “I’m Catherine Ruth, Kiyoka’s captain in the Fourth Platoon.”

 

“I’m Kashima Yuno,” the brunette girl says with a good-natured wave. “It’s great to finally meet both of you! And this is Sonoyama Hanako.”

 

She gestures towards the pink-haired girl standing behind her, who turns a bright shade of red and bows her head, muttering something unintelligible.

 

“And you,” Catherine says, turning to Hanzou, “must be the boyfriend.”

 

Hanzou promptly chokes on his drink.

 

“Funny story actually,” Catherine is saying. “A couple months ago we started getting curious about who Kiyoka was sending all those long texts to, right? We thought it was a secret lover or something, so we stole her CCM one day – ”

 

“Who’s ‘we’?” Yuno demands. “You did it all on your own!”

 

“ – and read all her texts, and found out it was just her brother all along. Booooring. But on the other hand we did learn all about Kiyoka’s big bro and his live-in boyfriend, so I guess that was something. With no Infinity Net you’ve gotta invent ways to entertain yourself, y’know?” She pauses and narrows her eyes at Hanzou, tilting her head to the side. “I have to say, though, I pictured you being a lot less – ”

 

Yuno claps a hand over Catherine’s mouth, laughing overloud. “Wow,” she exclaims brightly. “It was _so nice_ meeting you guys, and we’d love to stay and chat, but we really have a place to be right now, so, uh… Bye! See you back at the dorms, Kiyoka!”

 

She drags Catherine away forcefully, hand still clamped over her mouth. “You can’t just say things like that out loud,” she hisses, trying to be quiet but not quite succeeding.

 

“A lot less what??” Hanzou shouts at their retreating figures, but Hanako merely gives him a sheepish, apologetic glance as the trio slips out the door.

 

Daiki is staring at his drink like he’s not sure how it got into his hand.

 

“… Are my texts really that obvious?” he asks. He sounds stunned.

 

Kiyoka takes a contemplative bite of her parfait. “I’m afraid so, nii-san,” she says. “Would you like one of my strawberries? I know they’re your favorite.”

 

.

 

.

 

As they are walking through the shopping district a boy jogs up to them.

 

“Hey, Kiyoka,” he says, grinning broadly. “You hear about that party those kids from Crane Manor are throwing tonight? Their supervisor is out on sick leave and the replacement is super oblivious – doesn’t notice _anything_ , seriously. You coming?”

 

“Ah… No, I don’t believe so,” Kiyoka says. “My predictions point to an unfavorable outcome for such things.”

 

“Aww, c’mon!” The boy puts an arm around Kiyoka’s shoulder, leaning in close. “It’s gonna be the party of the year, no joke. You’ll hate yourself for missing it. Just forget those stupid tarot cards for once, yeah?”

 

Hanzou winces. This dumb kid just dug his own grave two times over.

 

“Hmm? Who’s this, Kiyoka?” Daiki says, a nigh blood-curdling edge to his voice. “A friend of yours?”

 

“This is Tsuchiura Ryuunosuke. He stays in the same dormitory that I do. Ryuu-kun, this is my brother, Daiki.”

 

You can almost see the moment in which Ryuu-kun realizes what a terrible mistake he’s made. His eyes widen just a fraction.

 

“Tsuchiura Ryuunosuke,” Daiki echoes. He flashes an eerie smile. His hand descends to rest on the poor kid’s shoulder, squeezing in a not-so-gentle manner. “Y’know, that’s a pretty long name. Might be difficult for me to remember. How about I give you a nickname, eh? How about ‘Snot-Nosed Little Punk Who Should Really Learn to Keep His Hands to Himself’?”

 

 _That’s five times as long as his actual name,_ Hanzou almost says, but thinks better of it. Instead he reaches over and pries Daiki’s fingers off the kid’s shoulder.

 

“Oookay, that’s enough,” he says. “Time to calm the fuck down, I do believe.” Discreetly, he turns to Ryuu and whispers: “Get out of here before he gets any angrier.”

 

The kid nods, terror in his eyes, and breaks into a sprint.

 

“Nii-san, what did I say about assaulting my classmates?” Kiyoka sighs. “You’re an adult. You shouldn’t be picking fights with high schoolers.”

 

“Tch. That little fucker had it coming,” Daiki growls. He shoves his hands in his pockets and turns sharp on his heel, muttering to himself and kicking at the dirt as he walks away. Hanzou and Kiyoka exchange a knowing glance and follow after him.

 

Soon enough they arrive at a small park, pleasant and quaint, with a pond and a flower garden and a worn dirt path lined with trees.

 

“Oh dear,” Kiyoka murmurs, holding up her CCM. “It seems my Joker charm is gone.”

 

Daiki spins around, his expression startled.

 

“I think it may have fallen off at the café,” she says, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “I’m going to go back and look for it. Would you two wait here for me? I’ll try to make it quick.”

 

“No,” Daiki says sharply. There is a determined set to his features, and beneath that, something that almost looks like… distress? “No, I’ll go. You just stay here, alright? And _you_ ,” he points a finger in Hanzou’s direction, “make sure no other little scumbags try to mess with her. That’s an order.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Hanzou laughs, shaking his head exasperatedly as Daiki jogs away. “Man, he never offers to fetch shit for _me_. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, Kiyo-chan.”

 

She smiles faintly and gestures towards a nearby bench. “Would you like to sit, Gouda-san? I’ve been hoping to ask you something.”

 

“Uh… Yeah.” He blinks, surprised by the sudden request, and lowers himself down next to her. “Yeah, sure. Go ahead.”

 

“Why did you come along today?”

 

He frowns, scrambling for an answer. “I… I’m not really sure? I guess I just wanted to meet you for real. He doesn’t talk about you a lot, but when he does, he just seems… different, I guess. Kind of fond, but also kind of sad, since he doesn’t get to see you much. And I just – I dunno.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “You’re important to him. So I wanted to get to know you better.”

 

Kiyoka nods. Her smile seems more authentic now, and Hanzou is struck by how much she looks like Daiki.

 

“I feel the same,” she says. “I’m glad you came, Gouda-san. Nii-san’s texts can only tell me so much; it’s good to finally have a real meeting, face-to-face. In fact, I… I wanted to thank you.”

 

“Hmm? For what?”

 

“For staying by my brother’s side all these years. I realize he can be… difficult.”

 

Hanzou bites back a laugh. “That’s, uh, a bit of an understatement,” he says. “But honestly? I’m _way_ more difficult than he is. He’s no good with emotional crap, sure, but I’m dense as a fucking rock and I never do anything right. Can’t believe he’s put up with my bullshit for so long.”

 

Kiyoka shakes her head.

 

“All I know,” she says, “is that he’s different now from how he used to be. Different in a better way. And I believe you are to thank for the change in him.”

 

Hanzou finds himself blushing. “Fuck,” he mutters, and looks away pointedly, feeling suddenly self-conscious under her steady gaze. “You’re embarrassing me with this shit. How’re you so goddamn mature, anyway? Nobody should have their act together at fifteen. It’s just not natural.”

 

Kiyoka laughs softly, an enigmatic glint in her eye, and changes the subject. “Would you like to exchange contact information, Gouda-san? It would be nice to talk to you more.”

 

“… Yeah, sure,” he concedes, a grin tugging at his lips, and begins rattling off his CCM number.

 

(Daiki returns a few minutes later.

 

“It was right there on the table,” he grumbles, pressing the Joker charm into Kiyoka’s outstretched hand. “Keep track of your stuff, idiot.”

 

Hanzou raises an eyebrow. He looks over at her curiously. _Did she leave it behind on purpose?_ he wonders, but her composed smile reveals nothing.)

 

.

 

.

 

It’s quiet on the pier, the sound of the waves only a dull murmur. Hanzou stands at the very end, far enough away from Daiki and Kiyoka to give them space, but close enough to still hear every word between them.

 

“So remember,” Daiki is saying. “Anything bad happens, you let me know straight away.”

 

“Yes, nii-san.”

 

“And if you go to any of those parties that brat mentioned, you bring someone along to watch your back, right?”

 

“Yes, nii-san.” Kiyoka’s expression doesn’t waver from her usual stoic calm, but there is a hint of amusement in her eyes.

 

“And what do I always tell you?”

 

“All men are terrible and are not to be trusted,” Kiyoka recites.

 

“Good.” Daiki clears his throat, fidgeting in that way he does when he’s embarrassed. He lowers his voice to a barely-audible murmur. “And… about what you were saying earlier… About this school being more than it seems?”

 

They lock in a stare, and suddenly something about Kiyoka’s face changes, unflinching resolve written there.

 

“I have my suspicions,” she says. “But I was wrong to try and involve you. This is our battle to fight, and we will deal with things in our own way, if it comes to that.”

 

Daiki holds her gaze for a long moment. And then he nods, reluctant but accepting. The mood brightens in an instant, then; Hanzou feels like a weight has just been lifted from his shoulders.

 

“Okay,” Daiki says. “One more time. What do you have?”

 

She taps her CCM screen and turns it towards him. “The Hierophant, reversed.”

 

“Hmm. I’ve got The Tower, upright,” Daiki says, examining the card in his hand, brow furrowed thoughtfully. “Looks like someone’s going to shake things up. Make sure you’re the one doing the shaking, alright?”

 

Kiyoka smiles. “Of course, nii-san.”

 

When he goes in for the hug Hanzou pretends to press buttons on his CCM, all the while watching them out of the corner of his eye, unable to disguise his grin.

 

.

 

.

 

He slings an arm around Daiki’s shoulders. “Wow. That was a great family bonding experience, wouldn’t you say? Aren’t you just _so glad_ that I came along?”

 

“Oh please,” Daiki mutters, but doesn’t try to pull away. Except for a middle-aged woman and a couple sad-looking teenagers with suitcases (recent expulsions from Kamui Daimon, he assumes), they’re alone on the deck of the ferry. Daiki is leaning against the railing, watching the water below disinterestedly.

 

“I feel like Kiyoka and I really grew closer today,” Hanzou says in a faint singsong tone. He holds up his CCM, clicking into his address book, where ‘Kiyo-chan’ is now proudly displayed. “I can’t wait to text her later!”

 

Daiki goes very still.

 

“Maybe soon she’ll be calling me ‘nii-san’ too, eh? Wouldn’t that be cute?”

 

Daiki lunges for the CCM, but Hanzou spins away, laughing. Daiki makes a low, exasperated noise and pinches the bridge of his nose.

 

“Delete that number right now or I swear to god I will throw your CCM into the ocean,” he threatens. “Might throw you in too while I’m at it.”

 

Hanzou merely laughs harder. “No way, man. Me and Kiyo-chan are on the path to becoming best bros. Even with all your power as a neurotic, overprotective big brother, you cannot stop our newfound friendship from blooming!” He pauses, then, and sobers up. “Plus, I mean… What if someday she gets in trouble and can’t get a hold of you or your parents? Having a backup plan is always smart.”

 

Daiki seems surprised, his exaggerated frustration fading away in an instant. “You… You’d go help her if she called and asked you to?”

 

“Well yeah, of fucking course I would. She’s your sister.”

 

Daiki is looking at him strangely, and Hanzou decides that it’s a good a time as any to address the events of earlier.

 

“And, uh… While we’re on the topic… I don’t mind, if you keep complaining about me to Kiyoka. I was a dick about it earlier but really, it’s… It’s fine. I just – every once in a while, maybe you could tell me when I do something that pisses you off?” He looks away awkwardly, fingers twisting the hem of his shirt. “So I can change it, y’know. If I can.”

 

They stand there in silence for a moment.

 

“… Yeah,” Daiki says. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

 

When Hanzou glances back at him he is smiling genuinely, a soft warmth in his eyes, and Hanzou’s breath catches in his throat. It’s strange how such a thing is still possible, after five years. He reaches out and grabs Daiki by the wrist, pulling him in for a kiss.

 

(“Get a room!” one of the teenagers shouts, and they both break away, yelling “Fuck off!” in perfect unison. Now that, Hanzou thinks, is damn near poetic.)


End file.
